Art, Receptivity and Bold Face Names

 The April 24, 2022 issue of "T, The New York Times Stye Magazine," is supposed to be all about creativity, but much of it is little more than a list of Bold Face Names such as one might find in a high school newspaper. Various names one might know from one branch of the arts or another have either been persuaded or paid (I'm not sure which) to offer snippets, or as much as several paragraphs, of advice to young artists, most of whom are probably not readers of "T."

Much of the advice is, well, fairly pedestrian or predictable in nature. Glancing through it, one is tempted to conclude that a person is by nature inclined to the arts, or not. If you are, one way or another -- and it appears there are as many ways as there are artists -- persevere. 

In her introduction, "T's" chief editor, Hanya Yanagihara, made an interesting observation: "art demands a state of receptivity." While it isn't totally clear what she has in mind there -- it seems she's talking about receptivity on the part of the artist herself lest the creative process not work -- I think there is another way of looking at it.

It's a bit like the classic question: does a tree make any noise as it falls in a forest if no one is there to hear it? (I'm sure science would claim to be able to answer that one definitively, but that's not what I have in mind.)  Rather, the question is: if a person creates a work of art and there is no receptivity on the part of the public, is it really art?

All too often, it seems, money is a proxy for validation. If a book, or painting, sells, it's valid. If it doesn't, well perhaps that proves it's "worthless" not just as an article of commerce, but in terms of its aesthetic qualities as well.  Then, of course, there are the storied artists ignored or rejected in their lifetimes, only to be acclaimed after their deaths at which point others manage to reap the monetary rewards. 

"No one's opinion about you or your art should matter more than your own," intones Ms Yanagihara -- a little homily if ever there was one. In one reading, it could be viewed as profound (if commonplace) wisdom. On the other, it could be viewed as another way of believing "it's all about me" -- one of the curses of contemporary life.

Then Ms Yanagihara goes on to assert: "You have to finish at some point. The people who get published aren't necessarily the most brilliant writers. The ones who get published are the ones who complete their work." 

While some clearly recognizable form of completion suitable for an article of commerce is no doubt essential in that context, such isn't the case if commercial success isn't required.

In the case of aesthetics alone, a creative endeavor is finished when the intent of the artist has been realized  -- or if that word calls into question "just who is an artist? -- the intent of the creator. Hopefully the creator will then experience a sense of satisfaction whether "receptivity" rears its head or not.

"Art is created in front of the easel, but it's just as often made while gardening or waiting for the subway or sitting on a park bench," Ms Yanagihara said. If so, there is arguably no need for her issue of Bold Face Names, except, of course, as a vehicle for glossy, expensive ads for Canali suits and Rolex watches. Just the thing for young artists.

Lesbian Relationships as Overcoming the Patriarchy

My previous post provided a couple of examples of patriarchal behavior in domestic situations, both recently and about 100 years ago. The similarities were far more striking than the differences.

On a related note, here is actress Rachel Weisz' take on overcoming one aspect of the patriarchy, the notion that a man's wife belongs to him and that she should behave accordingly.

Weisz, despite being married to Daniel Craig, an actor who has now stared five times as one of the quintessential alpha males, James Bond, has apparently become a "queer icon" as a result of a number of film roles.

It's sort of like the notion: "you are what you wear."

These films, according to a profile in the 2019 "Greats" issue of T, the New York Times Style Magazine, have depicted Weisz "as someone with the clout to create the kinds of female roles that are rarely seen: women in intense, erotic relationships with other women, without apology or explanation."

Well, actually, Weisz does have an explanation. Later in the same article, she is quoted as saying: "There's something that happens in a scene when a woman is across from another woman. It sounds really pompous, but you are free from this history of ownership -- I mean that. It is really liberating."

In other words, free from the patriarchy.

Clarity Can Be An Enemy Of Art

If something can be easily understood, it can be easily dismissed, which may explain why many artists appear to get rather vague when asked to explain the genesis of their creations or what they mean.

"It means whatever it means to you," one often hears.

A Curious Misunderstanding of Virginia Woolf in T Magazine

Perhaps I'm missing something, but the cover story of a recent issue of "T, the New York Times Style Magazine," contains a rather prominent misuse of Virginia Woolf's fiction.

The magazine runs an annual issue on "The Greats" and the lead article this time around is about Nick Cave, an African-American artist known for colorful, eclectic works of art. Megan O'Grady wrote the piece and in it, she describes Cave as having "a Dalloway-like genius for bringing people from different walks of life to the table in experiences of shared good will."

Cruelty and The Human Condition

My previous post reported on the latest annual "greats" issue of T, The New York Times Style Magazine,  in which one of the chosen seven was South Korean filmmaker Park Chan-Wook.

According to T editor Hanya Yanagihara, "greats" are people who have made an impact so significant that the rest of us of us begin to categorize their field of art in terms of what came before them and what came afterward.

The Importance of Disruption in the Arts

When one hears the word "disruption" these days, it is generally in the economic context -- venture capitalists searching for the next big high-tech startup capable of upsetting traditional means of doing business and reaping billions of dollars in profits by so doing.

But according  the editor of T, the New York Times Style Magazine, disruption is just as important as a means of advancing the arts.  The Oct. 22, 2017 edition of T is devoted to "the greats" -- seven living persons chosen collectively by the publication's staff as being exceptional in their fields for arguably bringing about fundamental change.

Embrace My Brand, Get Hooked on a Feeling

Writing in the program notes, Seattle Opera General Director Aidan Lang said Georges Bizet’s The Pearl Fishers espouses the idea that honor and friendship should be held in the highest esteem, even to the extent of suppressing one’s own sexual fulfillment.

"But in an era of the gradual erosion of communal values, of the focus on the individual, of the ‘selfie,’ is it such a bad idea to be reminded of these redeeming human characteristics?” Lang asked.

I cite that because this blog has episodically taken a look at the impact electronic social media appears to be having on individuals and what that might mean for the future of fiction. Most recently, I addressed the topic in a post entitled “Literary Hand-Wringers,” which, among other things, noted a new book by MIT professor Sherry Turkle in which she argued that digital technology is eroding the ability of humans to feel empathy for others.

In that vein, the Oct. 25, 2015 edition of T, the New York Times style magazine carried an article called “Hooked on a Feeling,” with the subtitle “Thanks to social broadcasting networks, everyone and everything is its own brand. Now we want the one thing the Internet can’t buy: human emotion.”

“The empathy economy is booming. Facts are out, feelings are in,” the author, Michael Rock, declared. But not, it appears, on the basis of a return to direct, person-to-person interaction among humans. In fact, far from it.

“Branding is supposedly not about what something says, or what it means, but how it makes us feel. A brand is a promise. It’s the emotional payoff on an investment in a particular product, place or individual. … When we talk about a strong brand, it consistently delivers the emotion it promises,” Rock said.

The article then goes on to discuss the “mood board,” a tool long used by designers to help them come up with a certain look for, say, the interior of a room or a line of women's wear. A mood board usually consists of a collection of images that, taken together, supposedly conjures up feelings that are often hard to directly express in words alone – feelings clients will then supposedly experience when they live in the rooms in question or wear the clothes.  

How is this related to social media and human emotion?

Well, here’s one possibility. “Instagram,” Rock said, “turns every individual life into a social network mood board.”

I show you my feelings, and you show me yours, coded and subject to interpretation, of course, and not in a manner that might be uncomfortably intrusive.

“When everything is available all the time and we’re inundated with information in every way, shape and form, we are left with no choice but to favor what makes us feel,” Rock  concluded.

So here’s the new plot line:  will she or won’t she – hit the thumbs-up button and “like” the latest posting on her favorite social network so as to satisfy her emotional cravings? (As opposed to, say, enter into an in-the-flesh relationship with another person.) Sounds like a compelling read.

But wait a minute: wasn't that T Magazine article entitled "Hooked on a Feeling?" You know the song: "When you hold me in your arms so tight, you let me know everything's all right." Alas, that notion was written in 1968 and as for The Pearl Fishers, 1863. How can one relate to either of those when "it's all about me?" You want emotional contact with me? Embrace my brand, soak up the feelings.

 Communal values? How quaint.